Wicked Game
by Lift the Wings
Summary: Going from the game warden of an African reserve to the world's one and only dinosaur theme park was a leap Crystelle's father never wanted her to take. Dinosaurs were a far cry from the lions and wild dogs she was used to, and far cleverer, she'd been warned. But she had managed to stay three steps ahead of them all, until she was blindsided by park's newest attraction. Owen/OC
1. Chapter 1

Welcome one and all! Please review and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing relating to Jurassic Park or Jurassic World :(

Prologue

" _Tell me you're joking_."

"Jokes are funny, Da," she replied, tilting her head to the sky and basking in the smoldering rays of the Central American sun. It reminded her of Africa, of her wild dogs and elephants and cheetahs, of her days watching over the preserve. A pang of regret hit her hard in the chest and she prayed, not for the first time, that her father's concerns weren't going to come and bite her in the ass.

" _Not all of them,_ " he retorted sharply; she could envision the deep furrow over his sky blue eyes as he glared down his hooked nose at her and thanked God she wasn't physically present for that disappointed scowl. " _This one sure as hell isn't. You weren't_ there _, Crys, you don't_ know _-_ "

"I know," she growled suddenly, slamming her tumbler of whiskey onto the rickety step beside her hard enough to nearly shatter the glass - or the step, "I _do_ know. I _saw_ what happened, Da. I might notta been there, but I saw what it did. What _they_ did to _you_."

" _And yet you still took the job,_ " he snarled, " _even after all they did. That damned place nearly_ killed _me! It'll kill you too if you're not careful-_ "

"But I am," she stood, rolling the tension from her shoulders and groaning as a slick, silver Mercedes pulled up toward her bungalow, "it's kinda my job - and don't you start on the whole 'it was mine, too,' shit, because I _know_. God knows you tell me every damn day. Things are different now. I wouldn't be here if they weren't. I'd be on the first plane back to the mainland, willing to hear every last 'I told you so' you had to offer."

He snorted at that, half distressed and half amused. Cracking a grin, she knew she had him.

 _The threat of him being right gets him every time_ , she thought with a victorious smirk, noting with a click of her tongue, "Look, Da, I understand your worries. I really do. I don't wanna see what happened to you happen to anyone here. But I've got this. I do. You just have to trust me."

" _I do, pet, I do,_ " he conceded, his tone gruffer with reluctance, " _it's_ **them** _I don't trust._ "

"Well _they_ are marching up to my bungalow as we speak, madder than hell it'd seem," she commented lightly, unconcerned as Claire, the park's operations manager, came striding across the lush lawn with a furious scowl painted across her pale face. A glance at her watch told Crys that she was an hour late to some meeting or other Claire had emailed her about the night before.

 _Explains the constant buzzin' phone in my ear,_ she mused with a smothered grin; she didn't want to make the redhead even more upset. The ear-chewings she got were aggravating, to say the least.

" _Don't let 'em do anything to endanger you, Crys, you or those fools that actually pay money to go to that death trap,_ " her father warned her, " _so help me God, I hear one thing and I'm-_ "

"'-on the first plane down there,' I know, I know," Crys muttered with an affectionate laugh; truly, for all his paranoia and misgivings, he really did have her best interests at heart, "I gotta go; this is prob'ly gonna get ugly. I'll talk to ya later, alright, Da? Love you."

" _You, as well, pet,_ " he muttered, grumbling to himself even as she pulled the phone from her ear and disconnected the call. Rounding on the charging redhead, she raised a hand in greeting and noted cheerfully, "Mornin', Claire. How can I-"

"An hour and-," Claire paused mid-rant to check her dainty silver wristwatch, " _seventeen_ minutes, Crystelle! I called you _six_ times… no answer. Looks like your phone's in working order, though."

She eyed the iPhone Crys tucked into one of the many pockets of her cargo shorts in disdain. Though, truthfully, Crys couldn't be certain if it was the phone, or the shorts that had her more irritated. If Claire was anything - and she was a lot of things Crys wouldn't dare say in her presence - it was professional.

Crys was the opposite. Dressed in her preferred khaki shorts, a black wife-beater, a pair of weather-beaten hiking boots, and her da's infamous hat, she was dressed practically, not professionally. And this meeting, she had been told, was one for which she probably should have donned a Claire-like outfit. A smart gray pencil skirt and matching blazer, with a white blouse underneath, and four-inch gray pumps to match.

But how was she supposed to take off at a moment's notice, be it to respond to a crisis or run for her life? Nah, these boots had done her well in the past and she'd be hard-pressed to don a pair of heels unless she was off-duty. Which was rare, to be honest. In a place like Jurassic World, there were enough concerns to keep her phone at the ready and her boots at the end of her bed.

"-lucky Mr. Masrani asked for you personally, I swear, or you would've been fired _long_ before this-," Claire grumbled, gesturing to the Mercedes and spinning on a heel. She strode off, expecting Crys to follow her, still grumbling under her breath about Crys's lack of professionalism, selflessness, and - style?

 _Oh, that's hitting below the belt,_ she snorted, but followed the operations manager without complaint. It would be more of a headache than it was worth, just like with her father. Let them rant, that was her philosophy. Well, a philosophy she'd stolen from Owen, but…

It wasn't the first time Claire had threatened her job, nor would it be the last. Crys supposed the _should_ be grateful that Masrani came to bat for her as often as he did… and that Claire really had no power over her position at the park. Operations manager she might be, but she had no say in Masrani's hiring of the game warden.

"Who're we meeting with anyway?" Crys interrupted Claire's rantings as easily as she did her father's, "Pepsi? Coke? Disney? You know, I really don't have time for this-"

"But you have time to talk to your father for over an hour, when you should be at the Innovation Center with me, meeting with _Nike_?" Claire released a long-suffering sigh, as though Crys should've remembered the company willing to offer thousands, maybe millions, of dollars in endorsements to the park, "tell me how that makes sense."

"My da has firsthand experience of what happens when a place like this fails, in case you've forgotten, Claire," Crys retorted, her normally light tone adopting a steely edge as her crystal eyes flashed. Her father would be proud of the way Claire buckled under her forceful glower and turned away. "Any input I can get from him is more than welcome, by me and Masrani."

The mention of the park's owner set Claire's teeth on edge, Crys could see. Her jaw ticked and she said nothing, instead stepping on the gas and flying through the jungle in a desperate attempt to reach the Innovation Center and salvage what she could of the meeting.

Crys smirked; a victory over the haughty redhead always put her in a good mood. She wasn't one to compete with the other females at the park, but she and Claire were too different to really be friends. They could barely be called acquaintances, truthfully. They tolerated each other because they had to, because Masrani often tried to get them to collaborate on projects which always failed miserably unless one of them backed out of it and let the other handle it.

Crys watched the beautiful, emerald foliage pass her by, keeping an eye out for any stray animals. There weren't supposed to be any out and about this far north, but one never could be too careful. Dinosaurs were crafty - just ask her father - and despite herself, some of his paranoia had rubbed off on her.

Well, they didn't make her park warden for nothing, she supposed.

 _Constant vigilance, and all that…_

Claire was rambling about someone or other, probably one of the guys they were supposed to be meeting from Nike, when the walkie-talkie at Crys's hip crackled to life, a masculine voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt. Tugging it free, she brought it to her lips and queried, "This is Ranger Rick; say again?"

While she wasn't male, or a raccoon for that matter, 'Ranger Rick' had been one of Owen's very first nicknames for her when she arrived on the island, fresh from Kenya and decked out much like she was today. It stuck with the rest of the employees, and everyone, from command central to the hatchery, called her that over the walkies.

" _There ya're, Ranger Rick,_ " Owen's voice teased, " _been tryin' to call you all morning._ "

"Yeah, well, Da was goin' off; you know how he is," she grinned affectionately, ignoring Claire's aggravated huff and watching the fluffy white clouds roll by.

" _That I do, Ranger Rick_ _,_ " the raptor's alpha replied with a laugh; he had had the pleasure of meeting her father once, when she had first taken the job. He had flown down specifically to ensure the park was safe enough for his little girl to work there. Course, it would never be safe enough - which he had shouted to Owen when he offered, rather irrationally, to show him the raptor paddock - but Crys had been persistent. " _But hey, I need to ask you a favor…_ "

"Oh, God, what is it?"

"Crys, we don't have time for this," Claire snapped, reaching for the walkie and growling, "Mr. Grady, whatever this favor is, it's going to have to wait. Crystelle is going to a meeting, a meeting she's already late for, and can't help you with whatever is - undoubtedly - more important than another park endorsement."

The sarcasm dripped from her words and Crys fought the urge to roll her eyes. Whatever Owen needed, _was_ , probably, more important than the meeting. At least to the two of them. She and Owen were of a similar mindset; if it came to the animals, it should have been their - and everyone else's - first priority.

" _Aw, shit, well fine, Captain Buzzkill,_ " Owen grumbled, sighing heavily, " _alright, then,_ Crystelle _, when you're done selling your body to these guys, come to the raptor paddock. That favor I need? It's pretty huge._ "

"Sure I shouldn't be there now?" Crys queried hopefully, biting down on the tip of her tongue to keep from cackling at Owen's incredibly appropos name for the redheaded ice queen. Sure, they'd used it over the walkies, but no one had been brave enough to call her that in her presence. Her face was about the same flaming shade as her hair, Crys noted gleefully.

" _Nah, I don't wanna get you in trouble,_ " he stage-whispered, well aware, now, that Claire could hear his every word, " _good luck with your meeting, Ranger Rick. Don't catch any STDs, alright?_ "

"You just don't want me to give you any," she retorted with a grin, rolling her eyes playfully as he groaned, " _God, I love it when you talk dirty. Starlord, over and out._ "

"Oh, you wish you were as cool as Peter Quill, Owen," Crys snorted, eyes to the ceiling as she waited for his retort.

" _Whoa, whoa, whoa, I said over and out,_ " Owen barked over Barry laughing loudly in the background, " _I'm over and out… oh, and how dare you say I'm not as cool as Starlord? I'm_ cooler _than Starlord- you wounded me, Ranger Rick, honestly… Hey, can't we just go back to talking dirty? Ya know what, never mind; the magic is over. Like I'm over and out._ "

Laughing, Crys tucked the walkie safely back in its holster, fastidiously ignoring Claire's unhappy glare. _Five, four, three, two-_

"You know, fraternizing with fellow employees is frowned upon, Crystelle," Claire noted disapprovingly, pulling up to the rear entrance of the Innovation Center and throwing the Mercedes in park, "what you and Mr. Grady are doing is-"

"Nothing actually," Crys replied truthfully, clambering out of the blessed air conditioning and into the humid heat, shoving the hat from her head and raking a hand through her short, auburn locks, "Owen and I share a mutual interest in dinosaurs, Marvel movies, and alcohol. We're not together; he's just a flirty guy. Calm yourself, Claire; jealousy doesn't become you."

The operations manager flushed, irritation flooding her features at the mention of any attraction she may have - at one point - felt toward the raptor handler. After their failed date, she had avoided him like the plague - an action that was mutual, Crys noticed. Of course, she and Barry had teased him relentlessly for even asking her out in the first place; he had weakly retorted one of the other handlers, though he conveniently forgot which, had dared him to do it.

"I'm not- I wasn't… Mr. Masrani-"

"-would not frown upon employee fraternization, as long as it didn't interfere with work," Crys quipped, to which Claire had no response, "he's all about love and freedom and happiness… kind of a modern day hippie, only a trillionaire. So don't gimme that bullshit. Anyway, like I said, there's nothing going on between me and Owen. Now, where the fuck are these Nike asshats?"

Claire, her eyes wide and pinned on something over her left shoulder, blanched and Crys spun on a heel. The Nike asshats were standing directly behind her, faces in varying stages of surprise.

Slamming her hat atop her head, she groaned, "Ah, fuck."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for tuning back in everyone! I hope you enjoyed the first installment and this one, too! Please leave a review :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Jurassic Park or Jurassic World unfortunately :(

Chapter Two

 _"I'm not- I wasn't… Mr. Masrani-"_

 _"-would not frown upon employee fraternization, as long as it didn't interfere with work," Crys quipped, to which Claire had no response, "he's all about love and freedom and happiness… kind of a modern day hippie, only a trillionaire. So don't gimme that bullshit. Anyway, like I said, there's nothing going on between me and Owen. Now, where the fuck are these Nike asshats?"_

 _Claire, her eyes wide and pinned on something over her left shoulder, blanched and Crys spun on a heel. The Nike asshats were standing directly behind her, faces in varying stages of surprise._

 _Slamming her hat atop her head, she groaned, "Ah, fuck."_

Crys waved at the men with a forcibly cheery smile as they made for the fancy Mercedes SUV; it masked the sense of dread filling her as silence engulfed her and Claire. It took half a second for the redhead to position herself in front of the smaller Brit, her face flushed and anger flashing in her dark eyes.

"Do you have _any_ idea how much trouble you just put us in, Crystelle?" she hissed, fists on her hips and shoulders tight. She was madder than Crys had ever seen her and she wondered uneasily if her father's name alone wouldn't be enough to save her ass this time. The redhead's lip curled and she sneered down at the younger woman, rage coloring her tone even as she whispered, "If you don't fix this mess and get us this deal, you _will_ be fired. I don't care what Masrani says, I don't care if he fires me, too… This is _unacceptable._ You may have connections to the original park, but your behavior is _disgusting_. I wouldn't expect something like this from your father, nor would Mr. Masrani, and I certainly _won't accept_ this from you. Now get out there and take care of this."

Normally, Crys would have responded with a sarcastic quip, a haughty smirk, noting that Claire obviously knew nothing about Robert Muldoon if that was the case. It wasn't because of who she was, or the fact that her father had been a hero during the incident at the first park and she felt herself entitled to anything, but because Claire was so easily riled and she enjoyed pissing her off.

She couldn't bring herself to make a peep, though; she had never made such a complete ass of herself in front of potential clients, nor risked the company hundreds of thousands of dollars in investments and she was well and truly cowed this time.

There was no doubt in her mind that Claire _would_ make due on her threat if Crys didn't do some serious groveling.

Nodding, she squared her shoulders, swallowing thickly, before exiting the Innovation Center. Her heart thumped at the thought of losing her job, but she shook the thought from her head and reluctantly prepared herself to kiss some serious ass.

As she made for the SUV, her pocket buzzed and she retrieved her phone. The goofy picture she had snapped of Owen - he was imitating one of his raptors and the snarl on his face was too much for her to handle - stared back at her and, worrying her lip and casting a quick glance over her shoulder, she answered, "Owen, I really can't talk."

He didn't answer for a moment, before he queried perplexedly, " _Why, what's up?_ _At least tell me when you think you can swing by. I-_ "

"You might need to ask someone else for help with that favor," she muttered, hovering uneasily on the steps, grateful for the swarms of people flowing in and out of the building to mask her small form from Claire's hateful glare, "I fucked up, majorly. Called these asshats 'asshats' an' they heard me. They're from Nike, Owen. _Nike_. Claire is _pissed_ and I might lose my job."

" _God, seriously?_ " he inquired, though his muffled laugh wasn't _quite_ muffled enough. She could imagine his broad grin and the teasing glint in his hazel eyes.

Flustered, she glanced around for the men or any sign of her boss, "Shut it, Raptor Boy; I'm in major trouble. I don't know when I can get away from these bastards; I gotta take 'em on a tour of the park, play goddamn John Hammond for the day."

" _Need any help?_ " he questioned seriously, " _bring 'em by the raptor paddock; I can show 'em the girls. Have 'em do a few practice drills. They could use the exercise and sounds like you could use a knight in shining armor._ "

"You know any?" Crys queried jokingly, though her heart soared and a grin broke across her face despite herself as she jogged to the SUV. Owen scoffed in her ear and she laughed, though another question fell from her tongue before she could allow herself to grow too elated, "What about your favor?"

" _Oh, well,_ that _comes later_ ," he replied and she _knew_ he was smirking at her through the phone, probably leant up against a wall, broad arms folded across his chest, in a way that drove most of her female coworkers - and herself, admittedly, _sometimes_ \- crazy, " _and it_ is _huge, believe me._ "

"Is this where you insert a ' _that's what she said'_ joke?" she hummed, beaming at the Nike reps as they sweated in their Armani suits and fanned uncomfortably at their faces.

" _Only if you say 'insert' again, but a little sexier._ "

"Mm, not gonna happen," she snorted, earning a few awkward glances her way, "thank you, love; I'll bring 'em around soon."

She stuffed the phone in her pocket and clapped her hands together, feeling far more confident than she had moments before. A warm smile flashed across her face and she queried cheerfully, "Alright, lads, who's ready for the grand tour?"

/

James, Adam, and Carl were far more forgiving than Claire had been, though they hadn't gone out of their way to reassure her that her insult hadn't lost them the deal.

 _Yet._

 _Prob'ly wanna make sure they get the full tour b'fore lettin' me off the hook_ , Crys mused, though she couldn't quite blame them. They _had_ , after all, been called _asshats_ ; not a slight that she would've soon forgiven herself, were she on the receiving end.

They were cackling over her last humiliating story; making herself look like a piece of shit seemed to bolster their moods and if them imagining her dashing through the pridelands in her skivvies being chased down by a pride of lions made them agree to Claire's deal, she was willing to allow it.

 _Just this once_.

"Alright, lads, last stop on our tour," she announced, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as tears poured from their eyes over the thought of her jumping into the back of a truck full of tourists on safari. Half of her tent had still been attached to her leg in her haste to evade the furious pride and she had had to fling herself into some sweaty old man's crotch, much to his surprise. And delight. "The raptor paddock! Actually, visitors don't even have access to this one, so you're in for a treat."

Pulling up to the massive, steel structure, she grinned in relief as she watched the tall, curly-haired ex-Navy SEAL stride into view. Owen Grady was a powerfully-built man and lean, a fine specimen, a predator in the best sense of the word. On the other hand, he was a weirdo, one that she could joke around and geek out over the newest episodes of Game of Thrones with.

Claire hadn't been wrong; he really was right up her alley and any fraternizing he wanted to do would be more than welcomed by her. But he hadn't broached the subject of any sort of shared attraction and she wouldn't ruin a good thing. If he were to offer, though, well then, _that_ was another story…

He met her at the door, opening it for her and eying the oblivious, wheezing men skeptically. He turned to her, resting his forearm atop the frame and leaned toward her, querying, "The hell did you do to 'em, Crys? Get 'em drunk? Slip 'em some marijuana? LSD? What? _Also_ , you saved some for me, right?"

"All of the above," she teased with a wink, "and of course I did. You think I'd let them have all the fun? You an' I are getting seriously fucked up when this is all over."

"I wish," he snorted, rubbing his scruffy jaw and promising, "after all this, I'm takin' you to Margaritaville. We're gettin' hammered, so be ready."

"You really are my knight in shining armor," she quipped, grinning broadly up at him before rounding on them and clapping, barking loudly, " _oi_! Lads, we're here! C'mon, it ain't _that_ funny. Me in me panties," she explained in a low voice, opting not to urge them on any further as they noticed Owen's presence and began to calm themselves, "I didn't think it was _that_ hilarious of a thought."

" _Mmm_ ," he hummed, offering her a wicked grin as he tipped his head to the side and allowed his eyes to travel the length of her, "it certainly isn't; I've seen you in a bikini and it is _no_ laughing matter."

"But the lions!" Adam all but shrieked, breaking into another peal of giggles, all but throwing himself over the hood of the SUV, "the sweaty old guy!"

"Oh!" Owen lit up delightedly, turning his wide eyes and beaming grin on her, "you didn't say it was _that_ story! I fucking love that one! Did she tell you he tried to stick his hand down her-"

"Yes, yes, he tried to capitalize on the opportunity an' feel me up and I bit his junk like the lions on my ass," Crys responded, raking an agitated hand through her hair as a low, rumbling chuckle escaped the raptor trainer by her side, "alright, well, I might as well let you lads yuck it up at my expense an' head on back, aye?"

"No, no, please stay, Crystelle," James grinned, drying his eyes and patting at his thick, reddened neck, "you're quite the guide; they should have you lead a tour of your own. Adult-only, of course."

"O' course," she replied, lips quirking in a tight smile, "can't have the kiddies' ears bleedin', right? Well, then, c'mon; Owen's got four girls who are rarin' ta meet you."

"Of the dinosaur kind," the trainer unnecessarily clarified, sending her a sidelong wink as they strode toward the paddock, "don't wanna get your hopes up." He dropped his head and his voice to her ear and continued, "Want me to push 'em over for you? I'm sure we could make it look like an accident."

"I'll make _your_ death look like an accident," she clicked her tongue, tilting her face up and feigning offense, "why'd you have to tell them about the groping?"

" _You_ _bit his junk_ ," Owen retorted with a disbelieving laugh, "that's my _favorite_ part! You just got chased by _lions_ and you nearly tore off some pervy old man's dick. With your _teeth_. So fucking badass, _Crystelle_."

A tremor ran through her and she couldn't help but smirk, "Keep callin' me that and you're next."

As she jogged toward the paddock, she heard him mutter to himself, "Don't fuckin' tempt me."

She fought the urge to toss him a questioning glance over her shoulder - though she certainly missed the smolder in his gaze as he eyed her rather lustily as she made her way up the metal staircase. He followed her immediately, silently, and the pair of them positioned themselves above them all. Crys stood, arms spread wide and announced loudly, "Alright, gents, you ready to meet the Raptor Squad?"

/

Alrighty, what did you all think?! Next chapter, we'll see Owen's girls, see the pair of them flirt a bit more, and meet up with Lowery and Masrani! :D

NicoleR85: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter too!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello all! Thanks for joining me for the next installment! I hope you like it; please let me know what you think! We get to see the girls in this chapter; I love them! And I have to apologize; I said Masrani and Lowry would be in this chapter, but I couldn't work them in unfortunately. Next chapter, though, we for sure will see both of them! I promise!

Chapter Three

 _A tremor ran through her and she couldn't help but smirk, "Keep callin' me that and you're next."_

 _As she jogged toward the paddock, she heard him mutter to himself, "Don't fuckin' tempt me."_

 _She fought the urge to toss him a questioning glance over her shoulder - though she certainly missed the smolder in his gaze as he eyed her rather lustily as she made her way up the metal staircase. He followed her immediately, silently, and the pair of them positioned themselves above them all. Crys stood, arms spread wide and announced loudly, "Alright, gents, you ready to meet the Raptor Squad?"_

The men exchanged near-giddy looks, hoofing it up the steps after them. Crys glanced at Owen, who nodded approvingly, brows high on his forehead, "Not bad; Claire fires you, _I'll_ hire you. You can be our ringleader. We'll put on shows, dress the girls up in tutus."

" _Har-har_ ," the Brit rolled her eyes, elbowing him hard in the gut; a satisfied grin crossed her face as he grimaced and clutched at his stomach, "been tryin' not to think about that, Grady. Thanks a lot."

"I was _kidding_ ," he huffed, massaging his middle and narrowing one eye down at her, pouting, "didn't have to get all physical. It wasn't even the fun kind of physical!"

"Was for me," she chirped with a wink, looping her arm through his as the men bypassed them, leaning over the railings like excited children at the zoo, searching wildly for the still-caged raptors, "sorry, Owen; as much as my da' would like it, I _don't_ want to lose this job."

"You won't," he replied, giving his arm a tug and pulling her closer, withdrawing his arm from hers and slipping it around her waist, giving her a light squeeze, "you'll be fine. Claire's all talk; you know she can't do shit. You're the most qualified person on this damn island to deal with these animals… she'd be an idiot to lose you..."

She was about to thank him, touched, when he added with a tip of his head, "-and not be able to get your dad as a replacement."

She shot him a threatening glare and he released her, hands raised defensively even as a wicked smirk tugged at his mouth, "I'm _kidding_ , Crys! _Kidding!_ Don't hurt me- _Barry!_ Grab her!"

A startled gasp escaped her as she was lifted easily from behind, two dark arms wrapped around her stomach and a deeply accented voice in her ear, " _Bonjour, ma cherie._ "

Though _some_ people would scold them all for their lack of professionalism, Crys couldn't bring herself to care. Her idea of a perfect work environment was one where she could be outside, work with animals, and get along thick as thieves with her coworkers. Still, being hoisted easily into the air when you were supposed to be one step ahead of any and all attacks was a bit humiliating.

With a good-natured huff, she patted Barry's arm and said, "Mornin', sir. Mind puttin' me down?"

Owen brushed by them, leaning close and muttering quietly, "Yeah, we got a bunch of asshats to impress, right, Crys?"

"Right," she nodded, glancing over her shoulder and sparing Barry a bright grin, peering past him and eyeing said asshats contemplatively, "ya know, you _could-_ "

"On it!"

The raptor trainer hastened to the oblivious men, tapping a thoughtful finger to his chin before choosing the smallest of the trio. Making as though he was going to grab him and shove him over the railing, he had to hurriedly run a hand though his hair and pretend that he was just retrieving the bucket of rats between Carl and James when they turned their attention to him. With a chipper, "Oh, hey, guys!" he pulled the clicker from his pocket and they were none the wiser.

He shot Crys a playful wink as Barry set her down and she shook her head, laughing. The Frenchman joined her, hands in his pockets as the pair of them approached Owen and the suited men, questioning quietly, "Do I even _want_ to know?"

"Oh, I'm sure you do," she smirked, a deft brow lifting as her eyes trailed over Owen, who was currently barking orders to have the girls released, "but later; I'm on thin ice as it is."

"You?" Barry queried, feigning surprise, flashing a brilliant smile as she leaned against the railing beside Adam, " _never_."

Snorting, she turned her attention to the men, nodding toward the enclosure below them, "Alright, gents, you're in for a real treat. Owen's been trainin' these girls since birth. Most people come for the Rex, but these animals are the most impressive ones on this island."

Adam inquired curiously, eyes pinned on the raptors' entrance to the pen, "Why aren't they on display then?"

" _Because_ they're the most impressive ones on this island," she explained, "these animals are brilliant. Velociraptors are one of the smartest dinosaurs we could've ever bred. They're clever girls, resourceful; amazing pack hunters."

 _They can open doors and communicate and coordinate attacks you couldn't dream of_ , she continued in her mind, memories of the wounds her father suffered from their claws, their teeth, bouncing about her skull. Only his own cleverness had saved his skin; cleverness, a rocket launcher, and a pipe that the dinosaurs were too big to fit in.

She opted not to voice _that_ opinion, though, knowing Claire's aversion to any reference to the original park and the carnage those animals caused. Most people had no idea, and those that did had only a vague recollection once Jurassic World had opened its doors. That's what multi-billion dollar theme parks did to people.

"Sure I can't hire you as part of the full-time raptor squad?" Owen queried, an appreciative gleam in his eyes, tilting his head as his voice took on an enticing tone, "we offer some bangin' benefits, don't we, Barry?"

She met his gaze, a silent ' _that's what she said'_ joke passing between them even as Barry ran a hand over the back of his neck, "Yes; attempting not to get eaten being the main one."

"Ah, they're not that bad," Owen noted cheerfully, rounding on the enclosure below as the gate slammed open and four wicked-fast blurs burst forth from their pens. He raised his hands, clicking wildly and calling for them to halt.

Reluctantly, they did, peering up at the group with interest. The men gaped, muttering under their breath about the sharp, curving claws, the snapping jaws, and the vibrant blue streaks along the biggest one's sides.

Arms draped loosely over the railing, Crys observed them silently. They truly were beautiful creatures, no matter what her father said. They were graceful when they ran, despite their birdlike movements as they watched Owen thoughtfully. Their bodies were lean and powerful; their markings, especially Blue's, were lovely.

Still, even her father could grudgingly admit they had only done what they did twenty years ago because it was their nature. He respected them, even if he hated them. He really would be surprised, she thought, at watching Owen with the girls. They were cold, calculating, but with him, they listened. They observed just as she did.

The alpha whistled and barked, "Alright, ladies, we are gonna put on _one helluva_ show! Hide and seek sound good to you, Crys?"

She beamed, nodding fervently; she would have that deal in the _bag_ if the girls cooperated long enough to impress Claire's asshats.

"Okay!" Owen announced loudly, earning a chirp in response from his beta, "first one to get the _towel_ gets a-"

Before he finished, though, they were off. Dashing into the underbrush, chattering and chirping, each raptor sought to win her prize before the others. Scattered across the enclosure were items, most well hidden, even buried, that Owen used to train the lot of them. Smart as they were, they usually returned in less than a minute, despite Owen and his staff moving them daily.

It took no more than thirty seconds for Charlie to return first, a ratty, torn beach towel decorated with pink, cartoonish triceratops dangling loosely from her jaws. Delta came bursting out from a bush behind her, leaping nearly eight feet in the air, claws and teeth at the ready, but Charlie anticipated her and darted out of the way.

The men shrieked, jolting backwards and grinning wildly; they shut up in an instant, though, as they earned a low, warning hiss from Blue. The beta stalked from the trees, her head dipped and body coiled as she watched them, unblinking. A twinge of unease ran down Crys's spine as she watched her, grateful that she was up on the walkway and not staring down the massive raptor.

" _No you don't!_ " Owen exclaimed, snapping his clicker furiously, forcing Delta to move away from Charlie and allow the winner to claim her prize. Owen tossed a stiff, white rat at the raptor, who dislodged the towel from her teeth and caught it deftly.

" _Good_ ," he grinned, tossing an excited grin to Crys over James's head; she offered him a wink, silently clapping and blowing him an exaggerated kiss. He tilted his head, as though catching it on his cheek, before calling out, "Next one goes to whoever brings me the ball!"

Off they went, dashing into the brush time and again to bring him a ball, a dog's rope toy, and a rubber chicken. Blue chomped on it, a weak, wounded squeak escaping it every time; she seemed to enjoy it as much as the men did.

Owen lobbed a rat at her and set the bucket down, wiping his hands on his jeans and bowing as they applauded him and his skill. He brushed their compliments off with a shrug, though the proud glint in his eyes as he tossed the raptors an affectionate glance didn't go unnoticed by Crys.

She beamed up at him, mouthing a silent _thank you_ and brushing an imaginary tear from her eye. His arms folded across his chest, he grinned triumphantly down at her even as Carl patted her shoulder and exclaimed, "Crys, this was amazing! Really! Do you think you could take us back to Ms. Dearing? I believe we have a contract to sign."

Pressing a hand to her heart, she couldn't help but grin, "Ah, lad, that's music to my ears. Lemme give her a call and we'll meet her at the Innovation Center, eh?"

He nodded, tossing the girls one final glance; shaking his head, impressed, he joined the others as they trailed down the steps and back to the vehicle.

Shoulders slumping in relief, Crys rested her head on the railing for a moment. A chirp caused her to lift her gaze, her light eyes finding Blue's bright golden ones. Tipping her hat to the brilliant raptor, she muttered, "Ta, lass. Ya saved my skin."

A warm body pressed against her side, Owen's warm breath ghosting against her ear as he retorted softly, reproachfully, "Uh, I think _I_ did, _lass_."

She bumped his hip with hers, shaking her head woefully, "You're _shit_ at a British accent, love."

"But I'm _amazing_ at everything else," he rested his chin on his folded arms as they sat atop the railing, batting his warm, hazel eyes up at her. His lips curved into a delightfully dangerous grin, "I think you _owe_ me for saving your-," he brushed his scruffy chin against her arm, cackling as she shied away from him with a whine, " _lovely_ skin."

She pursed her lips to hide a grin, shooting a contemplative look to the sky, before offering him a devilish smirk of her own, "What'd you have in mind?"

/

Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought! Things are gonna get real exciting real quick ;)

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	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for tuning in everyone! I hope you like this chapter. No dinos in this one, but I wanted to get some good Owen/Crys time in here before we get into the movie. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter Four

 _A warm body pressed against her side, Owen's warm breath ghosting against her ear as he retorted softly, reproachfully, "Uh, I think_ I _did,_ lass _."_

 _She bumped his hip with hers, shaking her head woefully, "You're_ shit _at a British accent, love."_

 _"But I'm_ amazing _at everything else," he rested his chin on his folded arms as they sat atop the railing, batting his warm, hazel eyes up at her. His lips curved into a delightfully dangerous grin, "I think you_ owe _me for saving your-," he brushed his scruffy chin against her arm, cackling as she shied away from him with a whine, "_ lovely _skin."_

 _She pursed her lips to hide a grin, shooting a contemplative look to the sky, before offering him a devilish smirk of her own, "What'd you have in mind?"_

Turns out Owen was pretty cheap when it came to collecting a debt. A few drinks at Margaritaville - that he ended up putting on his tab anyway - and he was the happiest of campers. Crys sat, cosied up against him, his arm draped loosely over her shoulders, in a small booth in the corner of the bustling bar. Barry sat across from them, knocking back another beer and cackling over Claire's gobsmacked reaction to Crys's surprising win over the Nike reps.

"I swear, wide-eyed, jaw dropped 'round her ankles, when they came back laughin'," she snorted into her drink, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. Her accent was thicker than normal and her grin was shit-eating. "Looked almost like she wanted ta cry. Prob'ly already had my pink slip written up an' ready to go. She's prob'ly tearin' it up as we speak."

"You know it never woulda happened, Crys," Owen replied, his fingers slipping into her hair and giving her scalp a rough rub, "Masrani worships the ground you walk on."

"Kinda like you?" she swatted him away, retorting with a laugh and winking exaggeratedly at Barry, " _and_ you?"

"Damn, you caught us," the Frenchman laughed, tipping back his bottle once more, "Owen, we should probably move our shrines. She was this close to finding them this afternoon, _ami_."

" _Yours_ , maybe," the scruffy trainer replied, shooting her a wink and prodding her cheek with she grinned and flushed, " _mine_ is so well hidden, even the girls wouldn't be able to find it."

"So you're tellin' me tha' if I gave 'em one of my shirts, they wouldn't be able ta sniff it out?" she inquired, playing with the straw of her mudslide and shooting him a dubious glance, "you don't have nothin' with my scent on it?"

He feigned an innocent expression for a moment before a wicked laugh escaped him and she jabbed a finger in the air in triumph, "A- _ha_! I knew it! I'm missin' my favorite shirt, ya know," she added to Barry in a stage-whisper.

He tilted his head, nodding knowingly, and assured her, "I've told him to give it back, but he doesn't listen."

"Who doesn't listen?"

"Lowery!" Crys cheered, lifting her bright blue gaze to the bearded, bespectacled computer geek. She raised her glass and he raised his own, patting Barry's shoulder as the lads greeted him and offered him a space at their table.

"Ah, no thanks, I was gonna go see if Viv wanted some company," he gestured to the other side of the bar, where Vivian sat, rather uncomfortably, with Claire, who was ranting, rather vehemently, about Crys, no doubt, "she looks like she could use a knight in shining armor."

Before Owen could make some sarcastic quip about Lowery's lack of any sort of armor, Crys straightened and peered over the dark-haired man's shoulder, "Ah, aye, anyone talkin' ta Claire needs all the help she can get. Invite her over if ya want."

"I just might," he replied, though his grin didn't reach his eyes and he moved away from the group, oblivious to her sigh and disappointed shake of the head.

"Poor, besotted lad," she lamented, resting her chin in her hand and watching him approach the pair, his shoulders tight and his stance uncomfortable, "how does he not know she's got herself a fella?"

"He's oblivious," Owen shook his head, resting an arm across her back, fingers absently stroking her shoulder, "there're plenty of other girls on the island."

"We've got one right here for him," Barry nodded to Crys, his eyes falling on the gently massaging fingers, which stilled at his announcement. Owen glared at the Frenchman over the oblivious Brit's head even as she snorted and shook her head adamantly, "Ah, _no_ ; he's cute and all but he's too… _indoorsy_ for me."

Owen laughed into his beer, wiping it from his nose and goatee, peering down at her and repeating, " _Indoorsy_?"

"Aye, he's always on his computer an' phone an' tablet an' whatever other technology he can get his hands on," she looked up at him, an easy grin on her face, "he _screamed_ when a fly landed on 'im the other day."

"In his defense, the flies here are _massive_ ," Owen fired back, though the tension that tightened the skin around his eyes eased back and a his smile grew warm, "don't laugh! I swear I saw one the size of my-"

"On _that_ note," Barry laughed, rising to his feet, "I need another drink. Can I interest either of you in one?"

Owen waved him off and Crys raised her bottle to show off the remaining three quarters of her own drink; Barry nodded and made his way through the crowded building back to the bar.

Crys shook her head fondly, watching him go and leaning back in her seat. Against Owen. They remained in companionable silence for a moment before she noted conversationally, "What would be so wrong wiv me datin' Lowery, mister?"

Owen let out a scoffing laugh, gesturing toward the man as he scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck beside Vivian. To be fair, she too appeared uncomfortable as Claire continued to squawk, her face flushing red.

"That's not an answer," Crys laughed, turning to face him and watching him intently, "why not?"

"You said so yourself!" he replied raking a hand through his hair and drumming his fingers on the table in sudden agitation, "he doesn't like any of the things you do."

"I said he doesn't like th' outdoors," she rebuffed easily, enjoying his discomfort as he stared, eyes narrowed, at the unknowing geek across the room, "he likes Game o' Thrones, thinks Marvel's better than DC. He loves Harry Potter, which I haven't been able ta get you into yet…"

"I watched the first movie," he protested quickly, quirking a brow and frowning.

"Yeah well what about the other seven movies _and_ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" she queried teasingly, laughing loudly at his widening eyes.

"There are _eight_ of them?!" he exclaimed, "and what the hell is Fantastic… what now?"

"Well, I'm just gonna go talk ta Lowery about it," she shrugged, making to rise to her feet only to be caught around the wrist by the raptor's alpha. She settled down fairly quickly and rounded on him, drawing one leg onto the booth between them. "I didn't have ta look at ya to know you don't like Barry suggestin' me an' Lowery together."

"How?"

Owen's tone was flat, his gaze burning, as he stared down at her. She flushed under the intensity of his gaze but carried on, her fingers brushing against his as they clenched the back of the booth beside her head. Slowly, his grip lessened and he turned his palm skyward, the smallest of grins tugging at his lips as she stroked her fingers along his skin.

"I _know_ behavior, Owen," she replied, lifting a shoulder. She chanced another glance at his face and met his gaze, a sly grin of her own drawing her lips upward. "And I know _you_. Claire never woulda made you happy."

"No, she wouldn't have," he murmured, his voice an octave lower as he swallowed thickly and captured her fingers in his, "but you would."

"I thought I already did," Crys quipped, her heart in her throat as he laughed and twined her fingers with his. Grateful that she was used to sudden movements from her animals, she didn't make a peep when Owen tugged her toward him. His arm slipped around her waist and drew her to his chest, his lips hovering inches above her own.

"Are you-"

She caught the back of his neck and drew him down to meet her, their lips crashing together in a somewhat sloppy, mind-blowing kiss. Tongues tangled and her fingers tugging at his hair forced a low groan to escape his mouth, his hand creeping beneath the hem of her shirt.

Breathless, she pulled away from him, offering him a shit-eating grin, "Were you seriously gonna _ask_ me if I was sure I wanted ya to kiss me?"

He let out a satisfied laugh, his thumb stroking the corner of her mouth as he stared affectionately down at her, "Well, I didn't wanna assume. You'd've ripped my tongue right outta my mouth or something!"

"Only if you ask nicely," she winked, elated at their evening took. She ran her hand around his neck to his chest, running her fingers through the chest hair that poked up out of his gray henley, "I think we should probably discuss this somewhere more private, though, don't you?"

"Definitely," he replied in an instant, nearly taking her with him as he rose to his feet. She shoved him away with a laugh; didn't need the entire island staff seeing him tote her into the night like a caveman, right?

 _Not that I'd mind that one fuckin' bit_ , she grinned, following him out of the booth and glancing around for Barry. She spotted him at the bar, snorting as he raised his beer and sent her a wink from beside Lowery. _You sly French bastard. I love you,_ mon ami _, I truly do._

Owen drifted back over from the bar, offering her his arm and bowing low, "Well, Lady Muldoon, your bungalow or mine?"

/

Crys and Owen stumbled through his front door, her back slamming into the wall and knocking a few books from the shelves against it. She pulled away, staring down at them and muttering an apology. Or attempted to anyway; she captured her lips once more as soon as she turned her head his way. She went willingly, her tongue dancing with his as he caught her beneath the ass with one arm and drew her up into his arms.

Legs wrapped around his waist, she pressed herself flush against him, moaning as he dropped his mouth from hers to her jaw and down to her collarbone.

"Fuckin' _hell_ , Owen," she breathed, "who ya been practicin' on out here? The girls?"

His laugh reverberated through her body and straight to her core, his lips grinning against her heated flesh, "Did you ever doubt my skill, Ranger Rick? I am Starlord after all. The greatest lover in the universe."

"How could I have been so naive?" she teased, dragging her nails along the nape of his neck and earning a sharp nip in response, "you're a terrible host, though. Didn't even ask me ta take my shoes off."

"Well, see, in _this_ bungalow, there's more to it than the shoes," Owen grinned, his pupils blown wide with lust when he drew away from her skin to stare up at her. He moved them to the couch, depositing her on the well-worn thing and seating himself at her feet. He tugged at her boots and socks, eyes raking over her as he continued, "Shoes, socks, shorts, shirts… all gotta go."

"Well, at least I can still wear my undies," she winked up at him, catching one of his belt loops with her now exposed toes and drawing him down overtop her. He braced himself above her, peppering her face and neck with light, open-mouthed kisses.

"Mm," he hummed, shaking his head, "forgot to mention… those are never to be worn on premises. Sorry; it's against policy."

"Well, in that case…," she laughed, slipping her warm fingers beneath his shirt and tracing the plains of his chest and stomach, shuddering in delight and anticipation, "I'd better get movin'. Don't wanna get told off."

"The punishment is intense," he agreed solemnly, his eyes smoldering in the dim light, "you better do it."

"Oh, well, if it's _that_ intense, maybe I'll go a bit slower."

"You like this shirt?" he queried, his finger trailing down along her cleavage, tracing the collar of her tank enticingly.

Shaking her head, she replied seriously, "Got twenty more like 'em in my-"

He caught it in both hands and tore it neatly down the middle, letting out a cackling laugh when she lifted her chest to shrug out of it without a single complaint. The next few moments were a flurry of activity, clothes removed and discarded until there was nothing standing between their bare flesh.

"Remember… how I said…," Owen grunted between kisses, grinding his hips against hers and earning a feral growl from her in response, "I was _amazing_ … at everything?"

She hummed in response, hooking a foot over his narrow hip, pressing it against his lower back and drawing him even closer still. A hiss escaped him and he laughed, a low, dangerous, guttural sound that had her beaming in anticipation, "Wanna see?"

"You're still asking?" Crys questioned, quirking a brow and staring at him through a lust-filled haze.

"Just tryin' to, ya know, build up the anticipation," he nipped her chin, his hazel eyes flashing with desire.

"It's been buildin' for months, Owen," she retorted quickly, dragging her nails lightly over his back and causing his eyes to roll back, "let's cut the chatter."

"Yeah," he replied, nodding and capturing her lips once more, "yeah. Good idea."

/

A loud, persistent knock startled Crys awake. She blinked rapidly, taking in her surroundings and the curly mop of light brown hair resting atop her chest. Letting out a low, delighted laugh, she ran her fingers through Owen's hair, "Love, I think you have a visitor."

He hummed, stretching himself out over her, nuzzling his face against her skin. She shivered at the rough feel of his stubble against her flesh, but tugged at his ear as the knocking grew frantic, "You really should answer th' door."

"Don't wanna," he replied with a huff, pushing himself up on his forearms and beaming sleepily down at her, "I wanna stay right here and do this."

He dropped his face, kissing her slowly, languidly, until Claire's shrill voice cried out from the porch, "Mr. Grady, I _know_ you're in there! I need to talk to you. Now!"

/

NicoleR85: thanks! I love writing the three of them! I love their little trio. Hope you enjoyed this one too!

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	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the delay! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! We're getting into the movie portion now!

Chapter Five

 _A loud, persistent knock startled Crys awake. She blinked rapidly, taking in her surroundings and the curly mop of light brown hair resting atop her chest. Letting out a low, delighted laugh, she ran her fingers through Owen's hair, "Love, I think you have a visitor."_

 _He hummed, stretching himself out over her, nuzzling his face against her skin. She shivered at the rough feel of his stubble against her flesh, but tugged at his ear as the knocking grew frantic, "You really should answer th' door."_

 _"Don't wanna," he replied with a huff, pushing himself up on his forearms and beaming sleepily down at her, "I wanna stay right here and do this."_

 _He dropped his face, kissing her slowly, languidly, until Claire's shrill voice cried out from the porch, "Mr. Grady, I know you're in there! I need to talk to you. Now!"_

Owen let out a loud, frustrated moan, shifting himself against Crys and earning a soft moan from her, as well. He stared down at her, desire flicking through his hazel eyes, but another shriek from Claire had him screwing his eyes shut in annoyance. Crys toyed with his chest hair, offering him a roguish smile, and she thought for a moment he would ignore the park manager and pick up where they left off a few hours earlier.

She was more than disappointed when he sighed heavily and rolled off of the couch, pressing a hot kiss to her shoulder before rising to his feet. She watched him with a sleepy, satisfied grin on her face as he leisurely gathered his clothes and pulled his shorts on. He scoured the room for a moment before a smile brightened his features. Retrieving his shirt, he untangled it from her bra and tossed it to her. Shrugging the shirt on, he tipped his head toward his bedroom, "Might wanna go throw somethin' on. I think she might literally explode if she saw you, in here, like this."

"Most likely," Crys murmured, clasping her bra and retrieving her shorts from the bookshelf. Tugging them on, she grabbed Owen before he reached the door. She tugged him down to her level, grinning as he immediately wrapped his arms around her and straightened, lifting her from the floor. Their mouths met in a brief, sweet kiss before he set her back down, smacked her ass, and answered the door.

She made it to safety before Claire barged in, humming to herself to drown out the redhead's voice. She rifled through Owen's drawers, retrieving a white tank top and pulling it on. Drawing her lips to one side, she wondered if she should make her presence known, until her name came up in conversation on its own.

"-I have to stop by Muldoon's, too. Of course Masrani wants her there, as well. I don't understand why he puts the pair of you on such a high pedestal."

"It's because we're the best of the best, Claire."

Crys didn't hide the amused snort that escaped her at Claire's surprise upon seeing her. She looked rather well put together after drinking and screaming at the bar the night before and Crys had to wonder if she did it so often, she was used to hiding it the next day. She _did_ , however, look more than uncomfortable, her eyes searching the living room and falling on Crys's shredded tank and panties.

"I- this… is _so_ not appropriate," she sputtered, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as her face flushed a violent shade of red, "I'd tell the pair of you off but I know it wouldn't do any good. Masrani will be thrilled and I'll get another speech about lightening up."

Owen and Crys shared an amused glance before he gestured to the flustered redhead, "Something she wants us to take a look at. Killin' two birds with one stone, here, Claire. You should be happy you don't have to waste any time goin' to Crys's bungalow. You can get back to all that… important stuff you do."

Claire ignored the jab and pursed her lips, eyeing the pair of them with more than a little contempt. She didn't mention it, though, and glanced at her watch, "Let's get going. I don't trust either of you to go without me; you'd never show up."

"That is not incorrect," Crys noted, throwing her locks into a ponytail and wishing she had her hat. She knew better than to ask Claire to stop at her place to pick it up and, despite the lack of a hangover, she knew a headache would be imminent if she opened her mouth.

Spinning on a heel, Claire huffed and left the bungalow, marching down the steps and swatting at flies as she went.

Owen stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared down at the Brit. Tipping his head to one side, he met her gaze steadily and queried, "So where does this leave us?"

"I think it leaves us on a whole new adventure, Owen," she laughed, smiling as he grinned and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands slipping into her back pockets as he captured her mouth in a slow, searching kiss.

"I do love adventures," he muttered, his tone low, a growl escaping him when she nipped at his lower lip, "I'm keeping the panties."

"Wha-?"

He pulled away from her, plucked them from the lamp they had landed on, and stuffed them in his pocket with a devilish wink. Crys rolled her eyes, her face flushing with delight and desire, before following Claire out the door.

Owen wasn't far behind her, groaning as he looked between the Mercedes and his motorcycle. While it was no question which he would have rather taken, especially since Claire would no doubt alternate between admonishing them for their behavior and wondering why on earth Masrani trusted them so much, he followed the two women toward the SUV.

"You call shotgun, right?" he inquired, bumping his elbow against Crys's, staring wide-eyed at the still grumbling Claire.

"Uh, no thank you please," Crys laughed, shaking her head adamantly, "I had to yesterday; she's all yours, love."

Owen grunted in agitation, but opened the back door for Crys and climbed into the front. As the petite game warden stretched out, she grinned at Owen's obvious discomfort in the front seat.

/

The paddock they were going to was apparently for a new dinosaur, but Claire wouldn't disclose the species until the reached it. It was well beyond the parameter for the rest of the park, meaning visitors wouldn't go anywhere near it just yet. In fact, most of the staff was in the dark about it.

And Crys was fuming. Owen shot her more than one disconcerted glance over his shoulder, to which Claire was oblivious. They shared perplexed and irritated glances; why weren't either of them informed?

Crys most of all.

She was, after all, the game warden of the park. Any and all new dinosaurs were supposed to go through her first, so she could discuss each and every safety precautions required for the paddock and exhibit. She always judged each proposed dinosaur and gave her opinion, something that, apparently, didn't matter too much to Claire. And even Masrani.

The fact that the owner of the park, the man that took her side over anything, that hunted her down and begged her on his knees, ruining his expensive Armani suit in the process to come work for him, didn't tell her about this new dinosaur was disturbing to say the least.

Agitation coiled in her veins, making her tense and wishing that Claire had never showed up to Owen's bungalow that morning. She certainly could have used another three rounds with the alpha at least. He had stamina, that was for damn sure, and he was as attentive as he was aggressive.

She had loved it.

And now she had to deal with this shit.

When Claire pulled up to the paddock, Crys felt her stomach drop. It was enormous, bigger than the Rex's even. Nothing good could be behind those thick, concrete walls, especially if construction was still going on.

"Why is it still being worked on?" Owen echoed her thoughts, hauling himself from the vehicle and fisting his hands on his hips. Crys followed en suite, staring up at the monstrous creation with trepidation. "Where's the animal?"

"It's inside," Claire replied loftily, lifting a shoulder, "it's bigger than we thought it would be. We're just accommodating it."

"What _is_ it?" Crys inquired darkly, hiding her anxiety with a frown, "Spinosaurus? Acrocanthosaurus?"

"No, no," Claire waved a flippant hand, her shoulders tightening as she replied, "it's, uh, an Indominus Rex."

"I don't know what that is," Owen replied, slowing as he and Crys followed Claire up the metal steps alongside the paddock. He glanced skeptically at Crys, his brow furrowed low over his eyes. His thin pink lips tugged downward in a frown, he queried, "And I know my dinosaurs."

He wasn't lying, either. She had seen his bookshelves; he was an avid researcher, though the raptors would always be his favorite. He had books upon books, thrown in with his Stephen King and George RR Martin collection, by Malcolm, Grant, Brennan, Sattler, Murphy… her father.

"You wouldn't know what it is, Mr. Grady," Claire replied smugly, offering a smirk over her shoulder, "it's new."

"There are no _new dinosaurs_ ," Crys replied hotly, marching up past the redhead and pausing on the platform, glowering down at her, "I follow _all_ the leadin' researchers; every new discovery… I've _never_ heard of an Indominus Rex."

"When I say _new,_ Crystelle, I _mean_ new," Claire replied with a huff, shouldering past the smaller woman and leading her into the observation deck, "it was designed, Dr. Wu and the others created it in the lab."

"This is a made-up dinosaur?" Owen questioned, disbelief coloring his words, glancing disconcertedly through the glass. His hard gaze scoured the trees for any sign of it. "What _is_ it?"

"It's part Tyrannosaurus," Claire replied, standing beside him and looking for the dinosaur as well, a small secretive smile playing on her face.

"Obviously," Crys noted, "hence the _rex_. What's the rest of it?"

"I can't tell you that," Claire answered, her mouth set in a thin line.

Crys bristled but stayed silent, falling into place beside Owen. She could ask Masrani; surely he wouldn't keep something like that from her. _If he even knows_ , she mused bitterly. "Well, where is it?"

"I can't see it," Owen added grumpily, "is it napping? Taking a pee break?"

Crys shifted from foot to foot, running a hand through her hair and wishing she had her lucky hat back. "I don't think it's in there."

/

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